


An Excess of Want

by minbins



Series: A Step by Step Guide to Losing Your Innocence [6]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: College Student Minho, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS I DO NOT CONSENT TO REPOSTING, Explicit Consent, First Time Fingering (Giving), M/M, Praise Kink, church boy jisung, read the other parts first this is a series, reassurance, recent high school graduate jisung, tutor minho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minbins/pseuds/minbins
Summary: “I want you to take these,” Minho says, caressing his fingers, “and put them in me.”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: A Step by Step Guide to Losing Your Innocence [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557112
Comments: 56
Kudos: 1038





	An Excess of Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acorea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acorea/gifts).



> It's been a hot second, but hi! Hope you all like the update <3

When Jisung trails into Minho’s room, practice-test clutched in clammy hands, he goes to head to the end of the bed like normal. He’ll typically sit there, cross-legged and trying not to fidget, while Minho goes through and checks his workings. 

A hand closing around his wrist stops him in his tracks. 

“Minho?” Jisung turns to face him. _Has he done something wrong already?_

Minho lets go, flopping down onto his usual spot, propped up against his pillows. “C’mere,” he says. Instead of gesturing to the bed beside him, where Jisung usually sits for his rewards, Minho pats his own thighs. Jisung tilts his head, confused. Minho laughs somewhat fondly, like he always does when Jisung displays his inexperience. “Do I need to spell it out for you, baby? I want you to sit in my lap. That okay with you?”

Jisung nods repetitively, so fast it makes his neck hurt, and he rubs his nape awkwardly as he winces from it. Maybe today is special, as it was a proper, Official™ practice test. Government approved, and everything. Now they’re onto those, Jisung knows there’s only so much more that Minho can feasibly teach him when it comes to _actually_ tutoring as he’s supposed to be. It makes him feel a little desperate in ways he can’t explain. “God, please.”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain, Jisung?” Minho teases. He reaches out with one hand, and Jisung lets himself be _pulled._ Trembling, he scrambles into Minho’s lap so eagerly that he feels Minho’s chest shake against his back. _Laughing at him. Again._ Jisung hates how much he likes it when Minho does that. Contrastingly soft, Minho works the ache out of Jisung’s neck until he goes loose and pliant. Only then does Minho pull the test towards them, resting it in Jisung’s lap. 

Trying his best not to fidget, because he knows it annoys his tutor, Jisung watches Minho distribute a series of green ticks along the length of his test. By the end of it, there are only two red crosses alongside them. One, Jisung has accidentally written to the power of three instead of four when expanding a set of brackets. He hurries to vocalise his recognition of the mistake, before Minho can even ask him what he’s done wrong, and earns an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck for his forward thinking. The next is just him missing a double negative, forgetting to make it positive at one stage in his working. Another preemptive apology, this time rewarded with Minho’s hand unbuttoning his pants. 

Jisung can feel Minho beneath him, half-hard already against Jisung’s ass. He’s even worse himself, fully erect before Minho’s soft hand even ventures into his briefs. “Needy, baby?” Minho asks him, like he doesn’t know it already. Like Jisung isn’t _always_ needy when it comes to their sessions. Jisung still nods vigorously, of course. “What do you want for doing so well?”

“Anything, please,” Jisung replies. He’ll take anything and everything that Minho gives him, and he’ll be grateful for whatever that may be. As Minho’s hand circles him, he fights the urge to buck into it, desperate for Minho to just direct him. He wants to be good, more than he can coherently express. “Just, just want you to decide. I like it when you, uh, when you take more control?...”

It trails off like it’s a question, like he doesn’t quite know what he means. They both know that he does. He’s just nervous about saying it out loud.

“So sweet, Jisungie,” Minho coos, soft and sweet, his lips at the shell of Jisung’s ear. He bites it, and then pulls away, maneuvering Jisung out of his lap to sit in front of him. Leant back against the pillows, Minho looks Jisung up and down. A trembling, worked-up mess with his pants halfway down his thighs, cock sticking out from under his shirt. “I did have a prize for you in mind, if you’d like to learn something new?” 

“Yes, please.”

“Aren’t you a polite boy, hm?” Minho praises, hooking his finger under Jisung’s chin and tilting his face. Again, Jisung almost expects a kiss that does not come. Again, Jisung isn’t quite sure whether he’s disappointed about it or not. Instead, Minho traces the shape of Jisung’s jawline with his hand, thoughtful somehow. Jisung wonders what’s running through Minho’s mind, if his thoughts are anything like his. _Can people like Minho really be compared to him?_ Minho feels like someone from another world, Jisung lucky enough to somehow hold his attention. It’s as if there’s a ticking timer suspended in the air between them, counting down to Minho realising there’s better ways to be spending his time than with awkward mostly-virginal boys like Jisung. 

“For you, yes,” Jisung replies. Minho makes him want to be polite. Maybe being polite will mean that it lasts longer.

“Show me your hands, baby,” Minho says. Jisung holds them out, and Minho inspects his nails. They’re short, clipped last night by his mother. “You’ve washed these recently, yes?” 

Jisung nods. “I went to the bathroom when I got here, remember? Of course I washed them after.”

Minho scoffs. “You can never know with boys.”

“What should I do, Minho? Please tell me,” Jisung says, so eager to please. He hopes it’s something that will benefit Minho the most, because Jisung enjoys seeing Minho fall apart more than anything, a moment of vulnerability that Jisung never gets to see, otherwise. 

If anything, Minho looks just the slightest bit nervous, like he’s worried Jisung will startle and run away. Perhaps he would, were he experiencing these firsts with anyone less captivating, but Jisung finds himself so impossibly drawn to Minho. Entangled to the extent that completely destructuring his world views comes all too easy. He’s been waiting for this, he thinks, without realising it: waiting for a chance to change the way he’s always viewed the world from within the parameters of a box. 

“Remember when you asked me how it works, honey?” Minho reminds him.

“Like, how to, uh, how to go further?” Jisung asks. He sounds like he’s trying to get the right answer on a quiz. In a way, he is.

“Exactly like that, baby, yes,” Minho affirms. He’s suffusing every sentence with pet names, perhaps to keep Jisung at ease. If so, it’s working. “And remember how I said it would be better if you fucked me first, sweetheart?”

Jisung’s mouth goes dry. Jisung’s whole _body_ goes dry, it feels, like his blood has all shrivelled up and left him parched all over. It’s a strange feeling to describe. Slowly, he nods. “Uh huh.”

“Is that something you’d like, sweet Jisungie?”

_Oh, fuck. Is this really happening?_

Jisung’s brain melts and puddles and drips out of his ears. Still, despite his mind and body shutting down at the concept, he nods. He has to speak clearly, or Minho might not give it to him. And Jisung wants it _so_ much. He aches with it. “It is. If you want that, it is. Not that _I_ don’t want that, just, you need to too, y’know? Consent, and all. I’ll stop talking now.”

“You are _so_ fucking precious,” Minho states like irrefutable fact. He takes Jisung’s hand, and bites the tip of his thumb. Jisung trembles, and Minho laughs, “I could just eat you up.”

“You already have,” Jisung points out. Minho has had Jisung in his mouth, after all. That must be what he means. 

“Not in all the ways I’d like to,” Minho retorts, annoyingly cryptic. Jisung doesn’t push it, knowing it’ll result in his own embarrassment somehow. “But we can get to those later.”

Jisung wants that, very much. His dick throbs between his thighs, untouched and desperate from it, so he tries to get them back on track. “What should I do right now, then?”

“I want you to take these,” Minho says, caressing his fingers, “and put them in me.”

“In your mouth?” Jisung asks. It doesn’t seem all that _out there,_ almost innocent in contrast to the way Minho’s looking at him. Still, he trusts in Minho’s ability to make even the simplest things painfully erotic. “Does that feel good for you, or something?”

Minho smiles, shaking his head softly like he can’t quite believe Jisung’s words. “Sure, it can do,” he admits, “But that isn’t what I meant, sweet boy.”

Jisung thinks on it. Fingers _in_ him, and if not his mouth, Minho must mean… _Oh._ That. His mind doesn’t shut down at all thinking about it, not one bit. Not at all. “I see.”

Leant back against his pillows, thighs parted slightly already, Minho is an absolute vision. He looks like a two page spread from one of Jisung’s mother’s summer magazines. Jisung subsequently finds himself trying to get the thought of Minho in a bikini out of his head. “You down for that, Jisungie?” 

Instinctually, Jisung wants nothing more. On a realistic level, he is a little warier. “Won’t it be kinda gross?” he asks. 

“Promise it isn’t,” Minho reassures him, “Won’t get into the logistics of it right now, lest I kill the cute little boner you’ve got going on, but I’m clean, I swear.”

_Cute, little._ Hardly the most flattering words for someone’s erect penis. For some reason, Jisung gets harder from Minho talking down to him in so pretty a tone. And if this, if doing _that_ to Minho is anything like sucking the older boy off, Jisung knows he’ll like the results— Minho, pretty, gasping Jisung’s name. It’s incomparable, being the reason for it. “Okay,” he agrees, that image in mind, “I’m down.”

_“Excellent.”_ It comes out like a purr, and Jisung doesn’t know how to bear with what that does to his body. “Get me less dressed, then, darling.”

Jisung scrambles to follow his instructions. He’s shaking a little, though more from eagerness than nerves. Minho intimidates him to Hell and back, sure, but with every time they do stuff like this he grows more and more confident in it. It doesn’t take too long to divest Minho of his trousers, given Jisung is getting alarmingly used to this, so soon enough he’s presented with the perfect sight that is Minho half-bare before him. He’s still wearing his t-shirt, and Jisung leaves it on like a strange sort of safety net as he pulls off his own trousers. 

Jisung pulls his briefs back up, though, ignoring the way his body protests. This isn’t about him right now. 

_How has he been brought to this point, to finding this perfect, to thinking that there’s nothing more beautiful in the world than Minho spread out like this?_ Jisung is perplexed, but oh-so-wanting. 

Minho pulls a bottle from his bedside drawer, and hands it over. “I assume you want me to direct you?” he asks. He would be correct in such assumptions, and so Jisung nods, stammering out a _yes, please,_ to follow it. “Would you like me to show you first,” Minho offers, somehow simultaneously sweet and derisive, “or can baby manage, hm?”

“Baby can- _I_ can, uh, manage.” Oh, Jisung is just such a _mess_ when it comes to this. At least Minho seems endeared by it, for some reason. “Just tell me how, and I’ll do it.”

Minho draws up his thighs, ass lewdly on display. An expanse of perfect, smooth skin. “Warm some of that lube between your fingers,” he says, “It’ll be uncomfortable for me if you don’t.”

“Fingers. Warm. Got it.” Jisung does as he’s told. He doesn’t want to make Minho uncomfortable. “And now?”

“Take two, and rub them around the edge,” Minho gestures to his hole, “Tease me a little.”

“Like this, Minho?” Jisung traces around the furled edge with his middle and index finger. It’s swollen somewhat, and he wonders whether that’s from the cleaning Minho had offhandedly mentioned. His hand is positioned like he’s miming a gun. When he folds his thumb against his palm, though, he finds it more comfortable. 

Minho sighs, settling back against the pillows more heavily. “Yes, just like that, honey. Try pushing against it, but stay gentle, okay? You’re doing so well.”

Minho’s approval thrums through him. It feels like touching a tuning fork when it’s ringing, but _all over._ Jisung wouldn’t _dare_ be anything but gentle right now. With the tip of one finger, Jisung pushes. Just a little. Just enough. “Oh!” he exclaims then, because somehow half of his finger has slipped right inside Minho’s body.

It’s tighter than his mouth, though Jisung supposes that’s really to be expected. Hotter, too. Drawing such parallels reminds him that it isn’t only his fingers that have been in Minho’s mouth. It isn’t only his fingers Minho plans on letting him put in _here,_ either. Jisung may well die if he experiences this around his dick. 

“Keep going,” Minho tells him, though. And so he does. His finger goes into Minho all the way, repeating the motion several times as per Minho’s gentle instructions. Then, “Another with it, sweet boy.” _Jisung complies._ “Just like that.”

When Jisung finds himself three fingers deep in Minho’s ass, he realises that he’s subconsciously mirroring the scout pledge symbol, little finger bent against his thumb to give the rest of his fingers easy access. It startles a giggle out of him, the hilarity of such a detail. 

Minho asks what’s so funny, understandably confused. When Jisung explains, however, Minho giggles right along with him. “A fucking _scout pledge,”_ he chokes out between bouts of them. He looks down at Jisung’s fingers half inside him, sees the truth of his words, and laughs again. “God, you’re adorable.”

“Am I doing okay, though?” Jisung questions, uncaring of Minho’s casual blasphemy. He wants to make Minho _moan,_ not laugh. And while he knows sucking Minho’s cock down achieves the desired result, this finger-method doesn’t seem to be doing much at all past making him gasp a little here and there. “You said this feels good, right? Why isn’t it yet?”

“So many questions,” Minho teases, reaching down to trace Jisung’s mouth with his thumb. “So eager to please.”

Jisung is, indeed. So, _so_ eager. “I just want to know what to do.”

“There’s a spot, inside,” Minho relents in the face of Jisung’s earnest desperation. “That’s what’ll make me feel good, baby. Just move your fingers around a bit, I’ll tell you when you find it.”

Obediently, Jisung starts to shift the angle of his fingers again and again, rubbing against Minho’s insides in earnest. “Am I near?” he asks after a little while, because he’s pretty sure Minho could be directing him better than this. Jisung rather thinks that Minho is just leaving him in the dark for the delight of watching him fumble. For some reason, Minho enjoys his utter inexperience. Jisung being terrible at things seems to excite him easily as much as Jisung actually getting them right. 

“Up a little,” Minho says in reply, squirming a little like Jisung is actually getting near now. “Go left a bit.” Jisung does. _“There,”_ Minho says then, sighing in content. “Good boy, Sungie. Keep that angle and start moving again. Don’t jab against that bit, though — it’ll hurt me. You don’t want to hurt me, do you, baby?”

Jisung wouldn’t mind if Minho wanted to hurt _him_ a little, but he doesn’t want to be the perpetrator himself. “Never,” he promises, shaking his head. “I won’t.”

“You’re cute.” Minho can’t seem to stop telling him that today. Jisung isn’t sure what’s so adorable about having his fingers up Minho’s ass, but he’ll take the praise regardless. He zones out for a moment, watching a bead of precum dribble from the tip of Minho’s cock. His mouth waters, and it makes his chest swell with pride. _Minho likes this — Minho is enjoying it._ Jisung’s mind loops it like a prayer. “C’mon, Jisung,” Minho urges, clearly growing impatient. “Be good for me, sweet boy.”

On instinct, Jisung dips down and laps up the precum before it can drip from Minho’s cock. It startles Minho enough that he forgets to stay entirely unaffected for a moment, whining when Jisung begins moving his hand again. Or perhaps it’s just that Jisung knows that he’s hitting the right spot this time. When he brushes against it, Minho’s back arches a little, more dramatic an action with each repetition. Jisung is reminded in startling clarity that Minho is a dancer with each beautiful movement, Minho’s hips circling down against Jisung’s fingers like he can’t get enough of them. 

When Minho’s gasps devolve into outright moans, Jisung feels close just from the sound of them. He’s orgasmed from a similarly nonexistent level of stimulation before, so tipping over the edge with Minho wouldn’t surprise him. Minho takes himself in hand, jacking his own cock in tandem with Jisung’s fingers inside him, and the added stimulation makes him _keen,_ high and pretty in his throat as he fucks his fist. If Jisung were in his position, he’d be long past the point of begging by now. Minho doesn’t beg, though. Not for Jisung, at least. 

And now Jisung is thinking about it. Their positions reversed, Minho’s fingers inside him, filling him up. 

Instinctually, he grinds down against the mattress beneath him, not considering the consequences in his lust-hazed mind. The second his neglected dick gets the slightest bit of friction, Jisung feels himself involuntarily let go. He tries to hold back, he really does. But with the intrusive thoughts of Minho’s pretty hands inside him, he hasn’t a chance. 

_At least his underwear’s still on — he hasn’t dirtied Minho’s sheets. That’s something to be grateful for._

“Oh, honey…” Minho doesn’t even sound the slightest bit surprised by Jisung orgasming prematurely; that’s the most embarrassing part. “Did you make a mess, Jisungie?” he asks, like the large wet patch spreading across Jisung’s briefs isn’t obvious enough. 

Desperate to return Minho to a state of pleasure, as opposed to _pity,_ Jisung fights past the usual full-body fatigue that sets in when he comes. Again Minho becomes the centre of Jisung’s universe. In other words, Jisung starts moving his hand once more. 

“I’ll make up for it!” he promises in earnest, even leaning down to lap at the parts of Minho’s dick that Minho’s hand isn’t covering. It’s messy beyond belief, and absolutely spurred on by Jisung hurrying to make the most of a burst of adrenaline he hadn’t seen coming. He’s normally pretty useless post-orgasm, and knows this exception to the rule can only last so long. “Please,” Jisung says, voice smaller, sweeter, “Let me make up for it?”

“You _are_ making up for it, sweet boy, don’t worry,” Minho reassures. He isn’t even mean about it — perhaps he can tell that such things would more likely make Jisung cry than turn him on right now. “Good boy, just a little harder with your fingers, put your tongue on me again, almost there-”

Jisung’s wrist is starting to ache a little, but it’s worth it. Anything is, to get to see Minho like this. His nose scrunches up when he’s about to come, like a cat caught mid-sneeze. Jisung wonders if it’s strange, how cute he finds that. Minho’s back arches _again,_ he rocks down against Jisung’s fingers _again,_ and then something visibly snaps. He melts against the bed, cum spilling over his own fingers, some of it dribbling into Jisung’s mouth where his tongue is still pressed to Minho’s cock. Jisung swallows it.

“I did okay, right?” Jisung asks almost at once, barely pulled away. It must be annoying, how he does so every single time. Minho always humours him, regardless. He must be able to sense how much Jisung needs it.

“You did perfect,” Minho says, sure enough, as he grabs the wipes from his bedside table. His words are interspersed with soft pants. He always sounds so pretty in this part. “I think I might let you fuck me soon, Jisungie,” Minho remarks then, a casual afterthought while he cleans up the cum now cooling on Jisung’s softened cock. The soiled briefs are tossed aside, meaning Jisung will either have to go home commando or in a borrowed pair. He rather hopes for the latter. 

“Really?...” Jisung can’t quite believe it. He doesn’t feel worthy, for one, even though he’s just made Minho come. Regardless, he won’t say _no._ It isn’t his fault that Minho is willing to settle for inexperience.

“Would you like that, sweet boy?”

Jisung looks back at Minho, wide-eyed but far less intimidated than he had been when they first initiated this chain reaction. He nods, careful and concise, knowing his eagerness will still visibly bleed through. “I really think I would.” _A pause, and a raised eyebrow from Minho. He doesn’t like Jisung being vague._ “Like that, I mean,” Jisung hurries to add, “Please.” 

“You want me so much, don’t you, Jisung?” Minho remarks. It’s half amusement, half wonder at the extent of it. Somehow, hearing it from Minho’s lips makes this all the more real. It settles over him, an echo of contentment rather than fear.

“I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> jisung is _learning_
> 
> who's proud of him? i'm so proud of him
> 
> \---
> 
> again, a reminder that this series is not my main focus - it's just something i do as a side project - and if you hound me for updates i will be far less motivated to update it <3 i had to work on this for a few months cause i was very writers-blocky with it, so please let me know what you think!!! kudos + comments keep me validated and happy
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/scbaes)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/scbaes)
> 
> \- V xx


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